


Astraphobia

by im_screaming_internally



Category: Sleepyboisinc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Astraphobia, He's also bad at food, Jschlatt gives him a hug, Jschlatt is Bad at Feelings, L'Manberg doesn't exist here, Minx is there for like 2 sentences, Normalize men being affectionate with their friends without it being gay, Panic Attacks, Philza is mentioned, This is all platonic because friendship dynamics give me life, Touch Starved Jschlatt, We don't talk about L'Manberg, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Yes I'm doing the family dynamic au for the sleepybois in this universe, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_screaming_internally/pseuds/im_screaming_internally
Summary: Schlatt didn't know Wilbur had Astraphobia. Real convenient that neither of them knew there'd be a storm while Wilbur was spending the night at his place.-------------------------------------------------------------------Hi I've never posted a fanfic before, this is the first one I've brought myself to make public and it's angst.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 11
Kudos: 191





	Astraphobia

Wilbur and Schlatt were best friends. There was no doubt about it. Somehow, someway, they crossed paths and have been inseparable ever since.

Schlatt was a debater. He argued for sport, either to prove a point or to annoy the shit out of people. Usually for the latter though. He was loud and competitive, and god he would not shut up. Everyone knew that he always had something to say. He was known for his surprising public speaking abilities, He could talk his way out of anything. He could kill someone right in front of a crowd and still get out of it. But under all that, under all the noise, the aggressive demeanor, under the charm in his rebuttals, he was a total softie. He loved his friends to death, loved to talk about his passions aside from debate, loved living and searching for the next rush of excitement and adrenaline. But he was too busy arguing with people for them to know that.

Wilbur was a theatre nerd. He lived for the exhilaration of being on a stage and being somebody else, with dramatized speech and the fantasy of being in a whole other world that never quite left him as a kid. He could be rather soft spoken as much as he could be outspoken, though he usually knew when to keep his mouth shut. He played a character so often that sometimes who he really was ended up being overlooked. The side of him that was anxious and quiet, that preferred to write music rather than dance to it, that showed affection at every chance verbally or physically, only his close friends knew him as he was.

That's something that Wilbur and Schlatt found out about each other quickly. Somehow it felt easy for the walls to come down. For the charades to end. For them to understand that they weren't who they said they were. They've stuck around side by side for years. Ever since they were twelve. 

And four years later, for the first time in his life, Schlatt didn't know what to say.

They were having a sleepover at Schlatt's house. His mom wasn't home that night. She was out of town like she was often. 

Schlatt was excited. He loved being with his friends, but Wilbur was his best friend and there's no one else in the world who he'd want to spend more time with.

He had been zoning out with the TV in the background, just lazing about. He was excited, but at the moment he was also extremely bored. Random thoughts came to mind, he was constantly switching positions on the couch, nothing much was happening so he decided he'd just make himself a snack. 

He ended up pouring doritos, takis, cheetos, and skittles all in one bowl. And he brought it with him when he heard a knock at the door. He ran over and tossed it open.

Wilbur was at the front with a small backpack and his usual yellow sweater and beanie. 

"Wilbur! Hey, man!" He pretty much yelled when he saw him.

"Hey! I-" Wilbur paused for a moment, and looked down at the bowl Schlatt was holding. "Schlatt..."

Schlatt took a handful of the amalgamation and shoved it into his mouth with a slow crunch.

"Yeah?" His mouth was full of food.

Wilbur stared with a mix of concern and disbelief before waving his hand "Nothing" he mumbled and walked in.

They spent the night doing random shit. They played a few rounds of a game before getting bored and moving onto making weird food combinations that were purely Schlatt's idea until Wilbur convinced him to spare his health and get something better.

"Come on, Wil. It's innovation! Have a little creativity." 

"Ice cream and cheetos are not innovative, it's a heart attack waiting to happen!"

"I'm 15, not 50. I'll be fine!"

"Schlatt."

Wilbur gave him that look. It was the same look his mom gave him everytime he came back from a fight at school. The "Your dumbassery is immeasurable and I'm not putting up with you" look.

Schlatt threw his head back and groaned "Fiiiiine. Let's order a pizza or some shit. I'm hungry."

"Bloody fuckin wanker." Wilbur mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry, I don't speak United Kingdom." Schlatt grinned and walked past him to grab his phone.

But they both ended up prank calling a few places first. Wilbur pretended to order from England, Schlatt was acting like he was calling pest control, and at that point they were just giggling like a couple of school girls about whatever lame line they could pull on the next person. It was around 30 minutes before they actually got a pizza. They argued about music choices for a while before setting into screaming along to lyrics of some rock band Schlatt forced Wilbur to listen to. They’d fought with pillows, not just usual hitting, it was a full on war. They got blankets into rolls and threw them like cannonballs, Wilbur tackled Schlatt to the floor at some point, and it was so much chaos that Schlatt’s neighbor yelled from her window across from Schlatt’s to “Keep it down, this isn’t Vietnam!” They got her back by throwing eggs at her window. Then she threw eggs at Schlatt’s. They called it the Egg War of 2563. 

“2563?”

“Thai year.” 

It ended fast though since both parties ran out of eggs. Minx went to their school anyway, they’d get her ass back for that.

It was around 2 AM when they decided to calm down a bit and watch a movie on Schlatt's laptop. 

They were leaving against the wall, sat near the middle of Schlatt's bed with blankets and pillows piled about and a large comforter wrapped around both of them. Schlatt convinced Wilbur to watch the movie with the lights off because "You can't watch a horror movie without proper immersion". To which Wilbur smirked and responded with "Whatever you say, but I'm not the one who screams at the smallest of jumpscares."

It was around the beginning of the movie when a crackle of thunder sounded mid-movie. It wasn't hard to notice that despite the fact that it wasn't too loud, Wilbur flinched. 

Schlatt turned around to the window behind them and momentarily dropped the comforter from around his shoulders.

"Well fuck. Guess there's a storm tonight." He crawled over to the windowsill and looked outside. It was raining a little bit, a soft patter against the glass that was honestly kind of relaxing. He saw the sky light up a few times before he returned to his spot next to Wilbur. Wilbur didn't look outside, it seemed more like he was trying not to look at all. Schlatt just brushed it off as nothing much, but he tried to distract him anyway with the movie. He added commentary, cracking a couple jokes here and there and for the next while or so Wilbur seemed just fine.

Near the end of the movie the rain picked up, and the sound of thunder was becoming more and more frequent and so much louder.

"Jesus Christ." Schlatt murmured. Another deafening boom made Wilbur wince and wrap his arms around himself.

"What, scared of a little thunder?" He teased, nudging his shoulder. Wilbur was silent for a moment.

"K-kinda..." He stammered, looking to the side in order to avoid eye contact. He was grabbing at his sweater sleeves so tight he might be digging his nails into his skin through the fabric.

Schlatt dropped the joking immediately. Now he was just worried. 

"Are you okay?" He asked. His voice was significantly softer this time.

Wilbur nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. I-I'm fine. Don't worry." He moved his hand to brush some hair out of his eyes before refocusing on the screen.

Schlatt eyed him with concern, but turned back to the movie anyway. If Wilbur didn't wanna talk, then he wouldn't push it. 

The rain got louder, pounding against his window almost as hard as hail, the sky lit up with crashes of unpleasant thunder that illuminated the room for milliseconds at a time. For Schlatt it was soothing in a way. He enjoyed storms, but it was hard to enjoy them when your best friend was silently panicking next to you.

What was he supposed to say? Wilbur looked terrified. What could he even do?

He was trying to think of something, but a small sob from beside him snapped him out of it. As soon as he heard he closed the laptop and got up to turn on the light. When he saw his friend he had gotten significantly worse. His hand was over his mouth, and his eyes were closed, the trembling in his limbs had gotten more violent.

Schlatt rushed over, and reached out a hand to steady him, but retracted it when Wilbur flinched back. He instead just inched himself closer, making sure not to make any sudden movements towards him.

"I'm sorry, I- I'm really sorry Ididn't-" His voice wavered, a string of apologies spilling from his tongue. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Wilbur! Hey, it's okay, there's nothing to be sorry about, alright?" Shit, shit, shit- what was he gonna do?

"I didn't, I- f-fuck-" he was trying so hard to hold back his tears. Wilbur pulled his knees to his chest with his hand still over his mouth. His breathing came out uneven, god it was hard to breathe, when did the air get so thin, he couldn't breathe- 

"Wil, it's just another panic attack, okay? You've gotten through plenty before, you'll be fine." He tried to reassure. 

And Wilbur tried to listen. He pulled his hand away from his mouth and tried to focus on catching his breath. In and out, in and out, in- fuck he couldn't-

So many bad memories flashed through his mind, the noise, the yells of his foster siblings, the glass breaking, the bruises and cuts and poorly wrapped bandages, it was like he could still feel the pain in the scars he unconsciously ran his fingers across. 

He couldn't do this. 

Every breath he tried to catch stuttered and hitched in his throat. No matter how many panic attacks he’s had before, the fear he felt in the moment would never lighten up. He tried to tell himself he was fine, he was safe now that he was out of that house, but the memories always tore themselves through his mind, the anxiety tightening his chest and drowning him in his own thoughts.

He needed something to ground him.

"S-Schlatt...?" He practically whispered.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"C-Can I... Can I have a hug...?" Wilbur asked timidly. "I-I know you don't like being touched, y-you don't have i-f you don't want to I just-" His voice rose with panic and fell with regret. "I'm really fucking scared right now..." 

Schlatt froze. Wilbur didn't look at him and , God, it sounded like he was going to cry. 

It's not that he didn't like being touched. It was that he never trusted anyone enough to let them. He never trusted anyone enough to open up, but this was Wilbur. He was his best friend. Wilbur was there for every breakdown and insecure ramble, and every low point he's had since they met four years prior, and was nothing but understanding when Schlatt placed that boundary. He trusted Wilbur more than anyone, and Wilbur trusted him enough to allow Schlatt to see him break. He was quiet for a long moment, what was there to consider? His friend needed him, why was he so scared?

Wilbur on the other hand took the silence as a refusal. 

"N-nevermind, i-it's fine, d-don't worry about it, I'll be fine, I-I’m sorry I asked, just f-forget I said anything-" More thunder boomed and it was enough to make even Schlatt wince. He recoiled and covered his mouth again. 

Schlatt couldn’t hesitate anymore. He wrapped his arms around Wilbur in an all too sudden move that made Wilbur tense, his shoulders rising in surprise. More tears blurred his vision and he let out a quiet sob.

Schlatt's never hugged him before. 

Wilbur let himself sink into his hold, returning the gesture and gripping the back of his shirt before burying his face into Schlatt's shoulder. 

"Thank you." Wilbur whispered. The sound of his crying was painful to listen to. Schlatt leaned his head on Wilbur's and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't good at comfort, he wasn't good at showing affection either, but Wilbur was his exception. 

He wanted to ask why he hated the storm so much. He knew Wilbur had it rough, growing up in the system after being taken out of a neglectful home, he knew that one foster home in particular treated him worse than all others, and he knew that once Phil adopted him he had begun to come out of his shell more, but he never found out the details. He just knew for sure that there was a cause and effect. Astraphobia this bad can't come out of nowhere. 

Schlatt wanted to ask, but it wasn't going to be now. Being completely honest, Schlatt was anxious himself. What if he wasn’t actually helping? What if he was overwhelming him instead of comforting him? He hasn't hugged anybody in years, what if the one time he brought himself to show affection was actually wrong and that he just made things worse even if Wilbur was the one to ask? 

But when he heard the genuine relief in Wilbur’s voice as he thanked him, the way he so easily melted into the touch, how he held on for dear life as the storm worsened, he knew how much Wil really needed him there.

Schlatt opted to play with Wilbur's hair, whispering comforting words in his ear to distract from the noise outside.

"It's okay, Wil. You're safe, just breathe."

Wilbur continued to sob, nearly jumping out of his skin everytime the sound of thunder rang out. Schlatt just held him tighter.

"It'll be over soon, nothing's going to hurt you, I promise."

Neither of them let go until the storm passed. God knows how long that was. 

But by then the trembling had mostly subsided into small shakes in his hands and the sobbing had died down into the quietest of sniffles and hiccups. His breathing had definitely steadied as well.

Schlatt pulled away first just so he could check up on Wilbur, he still kept him close though, allowing a hand to remain on his. 

“You alright?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Th-thanks…” Wilbur mumbled with a nod. “S-sorry. For freaking out like that I mean.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m just glad you’re okay” Schlatt said with a small smile.

Schlatt brushed Wilbur’s bangs out of his face, tucking the strands behind his ear. Wilbur kept his gaze low, and ducked his head back on Schlatt’s shoulder.

“It’s late , so how about we go ahead and get some sleep?” 

Wilbur agreed.

They fell asleep that night leaning against each other. Wilbur felt safe, and Schlatt felt a kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Sad Wilbur pog
> 
> I've made fanfictions before but I deleted them out of pure cringe so feel honored you're seeing this you hooligans lmao. It's not that great cause I pretty much just channeled my sadness into keyboard smash. I hope you enjoyed though. I might write more in the future if people actually wanna see that, but for now school is kicking my ass to oblivion and the dread of having 4 more years to decide on a college plan is beyond fuckin horrid.


End file.
